


the flowers gasping under rubble

by shsl_loser



Series: l'manburg was built on the destruction of children [6]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Blood and Gore, Gen, Self-Harm, Self-Mutilation, tubbo never actually manages to remove a horn but by god does he try
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:55:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29175270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shsl_loser/pseuds/shsl_loser
Summary: tubbo is tired of being compared to schlatt. he attempts to rid himself of one of the reasons why.
Relationships: Alexis| Quackity & Toby Smith | Tubbo
Series: l'manburg was built on the destruction of children [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2101827
Comments: 4
Kudos: 34





	the flowers gasping under rubble

**Author's Note:**

> quackity's reaction to tubbo is more yelling at him and being mean for harming himself, so if you're triggered by that i'd suggest to not read this fic

"you're just like schlatt" the words had echoed around the president's head ever since they had been spoken. how cruel, tubbo thinks, to compare him to the man that took and took and took, taking everything tubbo had to offer and then more. but he supposes quackity had experienced the same, so maybe the statement held some truth to it. or maybe it was the two curved problems that had been steadily growing from his head. maybe, if he got rid of them, it would stop the bitterness infesting his heart, would stop the comparisons to the man who ruined him, who left him a shoddy impersonator of his past self. inhaling a shaky breath, tubbo gently curled his hands around one of his horns... and yanked. instantly white-hot pain spread through the area his horns grew through, but he didn't care, he pulled and pulled again, hands slicked with sweat and shaking not doing him any help in getting rid of his curse. blood gushed from the skin at the base of his horn, tumbling its way down his face, and distantly tubbo heard a gasp. quackity was standing in the doorway looking at the president in horror. what a sight he must be, teary-eyed and blotchy, blood staining his face and trembling hands still not moved away from their grip on his horns. pathetic really.

"t-tubbo, what are you doing?" quackity's voice was shaky, and his eyes were blown wide. tubbo didn't know why he cared. if anything, the president thought quackity would be the happiest to see the stumps of bone go, no longer reminded of a monster whenever he was in tubbo's presence. tubbo wishes that whatever magic cursed him to grow horns just by being around schlatt could've instead made him grow beautiful wings like phil, or tusks like techno. maybe even smaller wings like quackity's. hell, he'd even adorn sam's patches of green and his occasional hiss with pride if it meant he'd never have to see his horns again. he hated them, so so much, more than words could even describe.

"fixing myself," he called, voice coming out hoarse and scratchy. quackity's eyes widened as his wings spread out and tubbo flushed, recognizing this as quackity's 'scolding stance.'

"tubbo you have five seconds to explain to me what the fuck you mean by 'fixing yourself.'" quackity's tone was sharp, pointed, and tubbo couldn't help but feel ashamed, even if he was doing this for him.

"well, uh... a lot of people have been comparing me to schlatt, and i wanted to make myself as least like him as i could be."

quackity physically reeled at the information presented to him. "so you fucking _mutilate_ yourself?!" he called, and tubbo felt confused.

"what do you mean, quackity?"

"what do i mean?! i mean you were trying to remove your own fucking horns! that's self-harm tubbo! jesus christ..."

"b-but i was only doing it be-"

"it doesn't matter why you were doing it tubbo! you still did. you have a country to rule, pick yourself up off of the ground, goddamn," quackity spat, turning and taking his leave.

as he slammed the door, tubbo raised his walls a little higher.

he would not be caught again.


End file.
